The First Meeting
by A Writer With Mixed Interests
Summary: Sarita was expecting a temporary shelter from walkers. What she didn't expect, however, was to find the man who would eventually become her boyfriend. Both a request - two years late, sorry! - and a birthday present.


**The First Meeting**

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 **Hello guys! This is a quick story about what could have happened when Sarita and Kenny first met in that restaurant. This was actually a request made by heidipoo (I'm pretty sure?) like two years ago, haha. This also happens to be a birthday present for another one of my friends, who adores Sarita and Kenny. Please enjoy!**

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The days were still chilly, even though the weather was supposed to be close to summer. Or, Sarita was sure of it. It had to be, ten months into an apocalypse that had started in the warmest season. But along with her older brother Arya, his wife, and their daughter, she had managed to survive the winter.

But walkers had separated Sarita from them. She'd had no choice but to kill as many as she was able to, and there was no other explanation as to how she got out other than pure luck. But she worried for her family. There were no screams, but no sign of them afterwards, either. Ever since the early spring, she had searched for them to no avail.

It was during this period of time that Sarita had realized how much she disliked being alone. Nobody to talk to and nobody who would be there for her, and nobody she could help protect from the horrid beasts that meandered around the dangerous environment. Sarita wished she knew where Arya or the others were, if they were safe. She didn't want to even picture the unthinkable.

Now, Sarita was tired, having felt like she'd been walking for ages. It would be dark shortly, and she would soon need to stop traveling. But where? The forest ground wasn't safe; who knew when more of those walkers showed up?

It wasn't long before she noticed that she was walking near a road, and she was beginning to see a gradual decrease in the number of trees and foliage around her. Would this road lead her somewhere? Was it even safe to take this route?

" _Every path leads to somewhere,_ " Sarita's mother would always tell her. " _It's always better to go forward than to go back._ "

Going forward had to be the right thing in this case. The forest was a dangerous place, especially at nighttime.

Sarita's tired legs eventually carried her to an old, abandoned, tattered-looking restaurant, just after the sun went down. It was hard to make out the name, due to some of the letters no longer being there, but that didn't matter. Perhaps there was still some food in here, food that had yet to go bad. And better yet, a plausible place to get some much-needed rest. If only for tonight.

Sarita made sure to keep the noise level low as she approached the building with apprehension, the Swiss army knife she'd managed to keep gripped tightly in her hand. It was funny; even in a world where one was forced to _kill_ to stay alive, Sarita never felt right doing it. She had never killed a person, and wasn't sure if she ever could.

After all, walkers were people once.

The restaurant was eerily silent when Sarita opened the door. The smell was an odd mix of rot and burnt food that seemed to linger in the air, but this could have been worse. Even though there was nothing in plain sight, who knew what could be lurking around?

Before she could set herself down for any amount of rest, Sarita knew she had to look for anything that might be dangerous. No way did she want to bloody up her knife yet again, and she hoped that she wouldn't have to.

There was nothing dangerous in the main dining area, bathrooms or kitchen – but Sarita had managed to find a couple of packages of saltine crackers in the latter room, a lucky find. She even checked every cabinet and pantry, but everything appeared clear. So far, it appeared that this restaurant was not a hazard zone, and it was secure enough to rest in.

Sarita settled herself into one of the booths. Not the most comfortable of seats, but compared to the ground she'd been forced to sleep on all winter, this was a welcome environment. But only for tonight…

What was that sound? Sarita sat up, not yet having fallen asleep, and took a look around. Had she missed an area? Was someone here?

The noise had sounded like glass shattering. She couldn't hear any voices, so she decided to do a double-check, to make sure everything was really as safe as it seemed. It was fortunate that she had been the one carrying the working flashlight when she'd been separated from her brother and his family, especially since it was so dark now.

"…hello?" she called out quietly. She knew better than to speak any louder.

The Indian woman shone her flashlight around. Nothing seemed out of place, not a trinket having moved. But surely the noise couldn't have been just her imagination? Sarita knew she had heard _something._ This reminded her of the times when she was a young child, hearing noises in the night. She would then run to either Arya or her parents for protection. But she was an adult, and needed to protect herself now.

There was another sound, coming from even closer than before. Sarita shone the flashlight to the direction in which it came from and was surprised to discover a door. It looked to be a closet, or a manager's office. How could she have missed that? She felt a little silly, but she needed to check it. If she'd missed it all night, and someone - _something_ \- was in there, there was a chance that they could come out and discover her.

Sarita placed her ear near the door for a few brief moments, and gave a few soft knocks.

"Hello?" she asked again, just barely above a whisper. "Is anybody in there?"

The source of the noise groaned from the other side. It sounded rather weak, too weak for Sarita's liking. Should she open the door? Who knew what, or who, could be on the other side?

She slowly took out the Swiss army knife from her pocket and flicked it open, wanting to prepare herself if one of the beasts happened to be ready for another meal. Her hand gripping the doorknob, she twisted it, backing up quickly just in case.

But it wasn't a walker. At least…she didn't think it was. No. What she saw surprised her.

It was a man, older than her by at least several years if the graying hair had anything to go by. His clothes were absolutely filthy, as if they hadn't been washed since the start of all this (which they more than likely _hadn't_ ). The most noticeable thing about him, though, was his beard. His beard was longer than she had ever seen on a man; it was almost down to his chest, it was so long.

And his eyes? They were almost completely devoid of life. Was he even alive? Sarita didn't want to kill this man, especially if he wasn't dead.

"Sir?" Sarita asked quietly, almost pleadingly. "Sir, can you hear me? Please…are you alive?"

There was yet another soft groan, too incoherent to be an actual reply. Suddenly, the man coughed, a large, hacking, dry sound. Walkers definitely didn't cough. This man had to be alive!

Sarita's eyes widened slightly in shock. Another living person was definitely the last thing she expected to see in this place. But…she was glad that he wasn't dead. She couldn't leave this poor man here, alone and suffering. He looked as though had she come any later, he would be dead for sure.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Sarita tried again, hoping to get a real response. Though of course, it probably went without saying that he wasn't. She turned, noticing a broken bottle of wine, smashed into a thousand pieces. She concluded that the man had used some of the last ounces of strength that he had to throw that, creating the source of the original noise.

The man grunted, and Sarita wasn't even sure if he could hear her. Immediately, she bent down to unzip her backpack, taking out a half-full bottle of water. As she did with many others, she felt obligated to help this person.

"Here," she said gently. She held the bottle to his lips, allowing him to drink as much as he needed. He did so, and when he was done, the bottle was nearly empty. Sarita, though, didn't care. He coughed again, but this time, he didn't sound so dehydrated. Something was said, but she couldn't make it out.

"Can you hear me?" Sarita asked again. "Please, I want to help you."

The man finally turned his head, making eye contact with her. He looked more than a little confused, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was intoxicated. Sarita had, unwillingly, seen enough drunk people to know this. But even sober, he appeared too weak to do much of anything.

No doubt he would forget this entire conversation by morning.

"Y' _can't_ help," he slurred, but he had now turned his head back away. "No one can."

 _You poor man._

"But I would like to," Sarita nearly pleaded. Her voice was never anything more than soft. "Please, let me help you. I would feel horrible leaving you here by yourself."

The man grunted again, scratching at his abnormally long beard.

"I would like to get you somewhere a little more comfortable," Sarita told him. She stayed squatted next to him, not wanting to leave his side while he was this weak. "May I do that? Staying here may only make you sicker."

No response. This worried her a bit, but the way he moved his arm told her that he still wasn't dead. This was a good sign.

After a nervous hesitation, Sarita moved forward, ready to help the man up. He was so drunk and weak that he was hardly able to put up a fight, so this only made the task easier. When they were both standing up (the man doing so with Sarita's help), she noticed that he was quite a few inches taller than she was.

She practically carried him over to the booth where she had planned to go to sleep, and helped him to lay down. The chances of sleep for her were decreasing by the second, but that was okay. Helping someone in need was far more important than rest.

The man – whose name Sarita was curious about – passed out almost immediately after Sarita settled him down. He snored, loudly (though not enough to attract the dead, thankfully), and the only other indication to his being alive was the occasional mumblings in his sleep.

For some reason, the man repeated the word "Duck" several times, his eyes squeezing shut tighter every time. It was unknown as to why.

Sarita didn't sleep a wink that night, staying up to make sure that this poor man didn't need anything. She kept watch, too, in case anything or anyone tried to make their way into this restaurant.

The sun had hardly risen when Sarita heard a voice. "Wh-What the fuck? How'd I get here?"

She turned around and was by his side in seconds. She placed a hand on his shoulder as he tried to get up. "Sir, please. Lay back down, you should not be on your feet."

The man turned to look at her, a suspicious expression crossing his features. "Who the fuck are you? Where the hell'd you come from?"

Sarita could live without the swearing, but let it slide. "My name is Sarita. I discovered you in the supply closet. You did not look well. I felt that I should do something to help you, so I brought you out here."

A look of surprise appeared on the man's face, but only for a few seconds. After that, he looked glum, almost sad, even. "Why help someone who don't need it?"

It was Sarita's turn to look surprised. "You shouldn't say things like that. I wanted to. It would be selfish of me to leave you in there, all by yourself."

Kenny grunted, clearly hungover. He leaned his head back, leaving Sarita concerned.

"Is everything okay?" she inquired.

"Seen better days," he replied dejectedly. But there looked to be more to it than that.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sarita told him sympathetically. She paused. "Can you tell me your name?"

He appeared to give it thought, probably about whether or not he should tell her. But sure enough, he did. "Name's Kenny."

"It's nice to meet you, Kenny," Sarita said, her concern turning into a small smile. "How are you feeling now? I really do think you should lie still, at least for a short while."

"Christ," Kenny said, taking off his hat. "Shouldn't have gotten to that wine. Drank the whole goddamn thing. Haven't eaten for God knows how many days, either."

That reminded Sarita of the food she'd found in the kitchen the previous night. "I have some saltine crackers in here. They were in the kitchen. Would you like some?"

As if to prove her point, she unzipped her backpack again and took out the box. She was unsure if the crackers were stale now, but food was food.

"Sure, hand some over," Kenny replied, and Sarita handed him two packs. If he were any stronger, he probably would have wolfed them both down in seconds. "Thanks."

"It's not a problem, really," Sarita said, smiling again. She was glad that she was able to help him out. "Are you alone? Do you have a group? A family?"

Something in Kenny jolted when she said the word "family." But that look was gone, once again in seconds. He ran his hand through his mullet hair and put his hat back on. "Ain't had a group in months," he answered. "Where's yours?"

"I was separated from my brother and his family," Sarita explained, looking a bit sad herself now. "I don't know where any of them are now. I just hope they are safe."

For some reason, she felt that she could trust Kenny. He didn't look or seem like a dangerous person. She knew that not everyone was as they seemed, but there was something about him that was trustworthy.

"Sorry t'hear that," Kenny said with a light shrug.

"I just hope I can find them, one day," she said. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Nothin' you ain't done already. 'm fine."

Sarita was only half convinced of this, but knew better than to pry. For the next several days, she tended to Kenny and helped him to get back on his feet. He still had that tired, worn out look, but he was getting stronger and Sarita was glad of this. What surprised her was that he (eventually) accepted her offer to come with her, rather than both of them going their separate ways. It was better to stay together, and harder to survive on their own.

There had been many things that Sarita hadn't expected that night in the restaurant. One of those things was finding the man who, after two short months, became her boyfriend.

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 **I hope you liked it! Sorry if the characterization was a little off on both parts, but this was my first real experience with writing for Sarita. I hope to gets some things updated and maybe something new in the future, but we'll see where college and work take me. Luckily it's the holiday break now, so who knows, maybe it'll be sooner rather than later! See y'all next time, and please let me know what you thought!**


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